


Cocky Concerns

by Lunaraen



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 15:10:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13169529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunaraen/pseuds/Lunaraen
Summary: “Don’t tell me this was your first clue?”“No, that would be the occasional, casual acts of cannibalism. And general disregard for your own life.”(In which Danse is concerned, Jessie is not, and he wonders how in the world either of them ever survive anything.)





	Cocky Concerns

**Author's Note:**

> Jessie belongs to [Nyanshadowforce](/users/Nyanshadowforce/pseuds/Nyanshadowforce)

Danse is willing to admit that not all of his choices have been exactly stellar.

He’s made mistakes in his time, knows the bitter, stinging taste they always leave, knows it’s worse when people he cares about and his emotions get involved.

(Especially considering the various reasons why heated and truly human emotions aren’t so easy for him to deal with.)

And trusting Jessie?

That’s not one of them. At least, if it’s a mistake, it’s the best one he’s made in years.

But letting her get away with what she gets away with?

Well, she’s her own person. Jessie’s allowed to make her own choices as a reasonable adult, even if most times she doesn’t truly seem like either, and even if she wasn’t, that would hardly stop her.

Jessie doesn’t need or care for permission, and given her various ranks in almost all the factions of their corner of the wasteland, there’s hardly need.

But maybe Danse should try to pay her back for all she’s done for him and be a better influence, try and actually succeed to keep her from getting herself killed as quickly as she’s been trying. She hasn’t died yet, by some number of miracles, but Danse isn’t sure that it isn’t at least in part also due to Jessie surviving out of sheer spite.

Knowing this, knowing her, he’s still not as prepared as he should be, when he opens the door to the room Jessie’s had claimed for herself since they began working on the abandoned lumber mill and finds her at her desk.

That doesn’t sound as bad as it is.

It’s not so much that she’s at her desk so much as it is that she seems utterly relaxed, feet propped up on the desk where the papers have been pushed aside while her chair tips back slightly, that gets to him. If her hat weren’t tipped and he didn’t see the eyes intently focused on him, he’d think she was asleep.

He does see the watchful eye, though, so he stops on the other side of her desk, arms set at his sides as he gives her a short nod.

“Jessie.”

She tips her hat up a bit more as both eyes watch him, smiling back.

“I recognize that look. Danse…” Jessie crosses her arms behind her head, leaning back slightly more in her chair as her boots continue to rest on the desk. “I know, I know. Am I proud of what I did? No. Would I do it again? Absolutely.”

It’s a losing battle.

He knows it, she knows it, everyone who’s ever met Jessie knows it.

But it’s his long-suffering duty to at least try.

“…I’m beginning to think these regular expeditions have been doing something to your stability.” It’s not the right thing to say, but he has no idea how to take it back without stumbling over his words or giving her an even bigger opening.

The smile doesn’t fall, strengthening if anything as Jessie raises an eyebrow.

“Stability.” There’s a lazy drawl to her voice as she repeats the word, and they both know too well how poorly the word describes anything to do with her.

Still, not twelve hours ago Danse had to trudge back to the settlement with Jessie at his side in the ghoul filled dark of night after an already too-long evening, had to deal with his power armor nearly malfunctioning and almost keeping him trapped inside and from being able to sleep, and while it was infinitely better than being alone with his thoughts, he has the right to say something about it.

“Particularly in regards to your mental state.”

“You don’t say.” Jessie seems to somehow relax even more, shoulders slumping as she chuckles. “Don’t tell me this was your first clue?”

“No, that would be the occasional, casual acts of cannibalism. And general disregard for your own life.” The two tend to go together more often than he’s comfortable with, and he’s already fairly uncomfortable with the cannibalism as it is. The only good thing that’s come from it, as far as Danse can gather, is that the eerie ability to sense other cannibals has saved them from dealing with the likewise eerily pleasant cannibal caravans or deranged roaming trappers.

It had also allowed them to deal with the cannibal who had been lurking about just beyond the hedges of the mill when they first began fixing it up as a settlement.

(He hadn’t particularly cared much for his own life either, as evidenced by the fact that he threatened to eat Jessie and tried to attack her while Danse and Jessie’s deathclaw, Cupcake, were right beside her. The fact that Danse himself still isn’t sure which of the two are more protective of Jessie only highlights how stupid a move it was, but he’s getting off track and Jessie’s grinning again and  _why is she grinning she could’ve died_.)

“Is that all?”

Danse breathes in, counts to three, resists the urge to snap or, worse, start venting, and exhales sharply through his nose as he pinches its bridge.

“I understand that it’s not the first time you’ve gotten yourself into dangerous situations.” Deciding to stick with him and allow him to hide on the Island despite the trouble it caused, and still causes, with the Brotherhood of Steel is more than enough proof of that and only one example, as well as one Danse would rather not mull over until he has time to get existential and Jessie’s busy with Valentine again. “Even so, most wouldn’t dare get close to a cult of rampant fanatics like the Children of Atom, never mind want to become the center of attention at one of their ‘celebrations’ and then risk radiation poisoning.”

Especially thanks to the issues caused by the fog condensers that allowed them to even make Echo Lake Lumber into a settlement in the first place.

(Danse stops himself short of letting it sound like an accusation, fingers twitching as he tilts his head back slightly. It’s hard, at times, to not be affected by the tensions between the people of Far Harbor or let his judgements affect his interactions with them.

Jessie knows what she’s doing, most the time, as dangerous and downright impossible as trying to create some form of peace seems, and he respects that.

He just wishes she would stop trying to get herself killed. He’s lost enough people to radiation, and more than that to the creatures already lost to it. Saying that anyone’s still sane on a place like Far Harbor is a tough call, made all the worse by how everyone seems to be aware of and acknowledge their own instabilities.)

Jessie gives a short shrug, shoulders not moving as much as her hands do, no longer behind her head as she holds them up.

“What can I say? They know I can talk.” Danse ignores the jab at his own mostly kept silence around the cultists. Jessie seems less inclined to brush it off or overlook the hypocrisy he’s been willingly trying, and up until now largely succeeding, to forget. “And you can’t act like I was the only one getting into things. I’d say you got everyone’s attention last night.”

Aforementioned kept silence isn’t as effective as it could be when it’s broken for the sake of singing.

For the record, he’d gotten more than just some light clapping, and Jessie had been the one to start even if she didn’t expect him to join in, but remembering that doesn’t do him much good in fighting off his creeping embarrassment or the lingering relief that none of it had been taken as disrespectful in some way.

So he plays into the other trap and stoops to her level.

“And I’d say you drank too much at the festivities.” He still hasn’t ruled out the possibility that she somehow got her hands on too much Wastelander before they ever got close to the Nucleus, but he’s more than certain that she got plenty while they were there.

He appreciates so much of her, really he does, and there is so much about her that will never cease to amaze him, but she can also be extremely frustrating and aggravating with how carefree she manages to act even when she risked dying again not twelve hours ago. Danse is hardly surprised he has to fight the urge to do something juvenile that would at least get some sort of reaction out of her, like steal her hat.

Actually…

He’s already stooping to her level. Besides that, Jessie’s always been encouraging him to do sillier, more 'human’, things, to 'enjoy life and living’ instead of playing it safe for ensured survival, and he’s willing to say the encouragements have only increased since they’ve come to Far Harbor.

So he takes a page out of her book and does what he does.

Whatever retort Jessie had about her drinking habits, or maybe his, becomes a squawk as she straightens up, swiping at him and barely missing the chance to snatch her hat back, nearly falling out of her chair as she does.

Danse stops, already turning to look at Jessie as the chair settles again, because it’s just a hat and he doesn’t care as much about his continued existence as he should, but Jessie doesn’t seem bothered, grinning as she straightens up and brushes back the bangs that fell into her face.

This? This part feels like a mistake.

“Oh, you’re on.”

And that grin only gets wider as she gets to her feet, hands falling on her hips. This just happens to be when survival instincts finally kick back in for Danse as he realizes he’s still holding onto her hat and now has her full attention, if he didn’t already, and he turns and bolts through the door just as she lunges for him. There are times when he’s reminded of how grateful he is for the benefits of power armor, and this is one of them.

There’s a whole lot more running after that.

(And frankly, he’s beginning to think being around the Children of Atom may be safer than leaving Jessie to her own devices. She has her ways of keeping things interesting.)


End file.
